Jane Scott passed away early in the month--we only found out a few weeks later. She and her family lived two blocks north of us in Boulder while I was growing up in an elegant home with a magical garden I'd walk by and admire. Decades later I discovered she'd moved not far from where I was living in Denver and had created the most beautiful rose garden in the region. My partner, Jan, has helped her for years. I took this picture of her in her garden last June when I toured Denver Botanic Gardens' interns through gardens: hers was far and away the most loved by them. She kept saying that we should all get together for pizza last year. But there's always next year we thought. Jane leaves behind John and a loving daughter as well as many dear friends.
|Bracey Tiede (left) Richard on the right|
|Barbara Baldwin with me behind|
Barbara helped develop a robust tour program at the Gardens and enlisted me to lead a number of tours which she accompanied including to Greece and Turkey--and we're pictured here together on West Spanish peak on yet another field trip, only one I organized almost a decade ago. We lost Barbara only Saturday after a brave fight. My sincere condolences to Dennis, her loving and wonderful husband.
|Rachel Saunders near Middelpos among Gazania krebsiana|
|Rod Saunders near Middelpos among Gazania krebsiana|
We yearn for those who pass away for their own precious selves. But we grieve almost as much for what they have taken away with them--all their associations with us, the memories of our times together, our mutual memories are now somehow incomplete... I once learned in a wonderful course at Landmark Education that we are not our physical bodies, our own consciousness so much as the reflections of that body, our hearts and minds and words in those that we know and love. In other words, who we are is really who we love. And when they go, so too are we diminished.They have taken a better part of us with them. Like Hopkins' Golden Grove, it's ourselves we grieve for.